


Fascinated

by TheHuntress53



Series: Fascinate [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-01-30 16:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21431275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuntress53/pseuds/TheHuntress53
Summary: The war is over, the world is dark, can fate overcome? Will their love survive the terrifying world they now live in? Will their bond be strong enough to withstand the darkness?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Series: Fascinate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545055
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Tangled

**Author's Note:**

> ~Author's Note: This has been yet another huge collaboration and I would love to thank all who have helped. Arendora for stepping in when I really needed help and helping to really bring this story to where it is today. Savedprincess85 for always and forever being my beta. and last but never least Silver Lioness for the fantastic cover she created for us (on facebook). I am eternally grateful to all of you.
> 
> So without further ado, as always J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter world, its characters, original plot and ending. I simply borrowed them for no financial gain. I only wanted to have fun. Please enjoy!~

The world did not end in a bang or a whisper, but rather one scream at a time. The war was over. Harry Potter boldly died as he fought valiantly against Lord Voldemort. The world was dark as Death Eaters spent their days rounding up Muggle-born witches and wizards and burning down half of the Wizarding world in retaliation for the Order’s defiance. Hermione’s parents had been killed by Death Eaters in an attempt to lure her out, almost immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. It almost worked, too. Hermione had become melancholy and withdrawn after that. 

Ron distanced himself from her after receiving death threats to himself and his family. He even went so far as to threaten to turn her over to Snatchers if she dared to contact them again. Molly had been even more protective of her family once Fred died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Her other friends were all afraid to even communicate with her, in fear they would have Death Eaters attack their homes and families. She had been, and still remained, the most wanted Muggle-born in all of Wizarding Britain. She was well and truly alone.

  
  


*** 

  
  


Lucius thought back to the day he lost his wife. Narcissa was sent to check Harry Potter for signs of life after the Dark Lord hit him with the Avada Kedavra. They left Potter in the forest to fade into history; death had been easy for Potter, at least according to the Dark Lord. On the walk from the forest to the castle, Bellatrix used legilimency on her exhausted sister and saw something that caused her to kill her sister, in cold blood. Draco, having seen everything, killed his aunt. The dead sisters were hidden by Draco until he could find his father. 

Voldemort's fury had been palpable, but he did not know it had been one of his own Death Eaters that had caused the demise of his favorite lieutenant. With a single spell, he demolished most of Hogwarts and nearly everyone that had been within her walls. The war was far from over, but the battle that changed the world had already been won.

Lucius, even in his grief, continued to rally with the Dark Lord’s crusade against the Muggle-borns and Muggle-born sympathizers. He spent his days tracking blood traitors and mudblood's across Europe, yet his life seemed empty and void. He kept up appearances, having no choice, but his loyalty had long since abated with the death of his wife and a bond he felt blooming, even if he didn't want to admit it’s existence. Nothing seemed to make sense any longer; his life had truly turned on its axis, and he didn't know how to correct it. He drank too much, his haggard appearance decreasing as each tedious day passed.

Lucius watched as Draco was put in charge of the many Muggleborn camps spread throughout Europe. He could even see a child-like enjoyment on his son’s face as Draco worked relentlessly to capture the most famous Muggleborn, Hermione Granger, who had escaped during the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco’s work towards finding Hermione caused much turmoil within Lucius’ mind. He wanted nothing more than for her to be captured; however, he did not want to see her caught at the hands of his unhinged heir.

Lucius and Draco had been assigned to keep track of Hermione; with their personal experience with Granger, they had insight other Death Eaters lacked. Lucius was equally fascinated and frustrated by the impertinent chit, she had already evaded capture for more than two years, if he included the year prior to the Battle of Hogwarts. He assigned every available Snatcher in search of her. And yet he felt an unexplainable need to work damn hard to consistently misdirect them from getting too close to her trail. He wanted to be the one to bring her in, to keep her safe. Something in him wanted to keep her safe.

But sometimes, even the best laid plans can fail.

  
  
  
  


***

Hermione was running again. The air in her lungs felt like frozen shards of glass, but she knew she had to keep running. She had been careless trying to steal food from a bakery and caught the attention of Scabior and his merry band if Snatchers.

The incarcerous spell hit her as she crested the hill into the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. She rolled down the hill, bruising her nose and collarbone.

"Hello again, beautiful," Scabior's grimy, diseased teeth and putrid breath invaded her already ravaged lungs, making her gag. She was on the verge of vomiting even before he walked in front of her and smiled.

“I could have gotten you a fantastic deal on dental work, Scabior, but now I am afraid it’s a moot point since you murdered the people who could fix them.” She grimaced, hating to even think about her parents.

“I wouldn't let no muggles touch me mouth, Mudblood!” he yelled in her face, spit landed on her bruised nose.

“Pity, it would have at least improved the smell,” Hermione retorted as she struggled against the ropes that bound her.

“I could smell you all day, beautiful, even though you are a filthy Mudblood whore. Maybe the Dark Lord will let me keep you, aye? You could be my pet. I will even put a nice collar on you and let you sleep at the foot of my bed.” Scabior chuckled darkly as he checked the ropes to make sure that they were tight.

“I would rather sleep in a pig pen. It would probably be cleaner!” She shouted. She wriggled around to try to break the spell and failed spectacularly. Her magic was weakened due to malnourishment. She had been on the run for two years, and she was simply exhausted.

“Let me go!” she yelled at him again as he stepped in front of her. 

“Not this time, girly. This time you go directly to the Dark Lord himself.” A cold shiver ran down Hermione's spine. She was terrified, but she used every ounce of self control she had left not to cry in front of this lecherous bastard.

“Good, anything to get away from you,” she spat. 

Scabior hauled her petite frame off of the ground and threw her over his shoulder. He smacked her backside with a loud thwack when she thrashed about attempting to get away. He and the others began walking to the nearest apparition point.

“Be still or I’ll let Greyback hold you,” Scabior growled. Hermione recognized the danger in that statement and immediately fell limp.

“Why do you do this, Scabior? You are a fairly decent looking guy. I am sure you could get a job doing almost anything,” she asked, hoping to make him think about his actions.

“It’s none of your business now is it, beautiful,” he taunted.

“Will you _ please _ stop calling me beautiful, it’s quite unnerving,” she asked scathingly. 

Scabior chuckled and squeezed her left buttcheek. “You don't know you are beautiful, do you?”

“Because I am not beautiful. I am intelligent, and I am useful. There is a huge difference, and stop touching my behind,” Hermione muttered.

“Yeah, you are those too. I happen to like your arse, its taut,” Scabior laughed.

“Ugh! How revolting!” she groaned.

“You need me to carry the girly, Scabior?” Greyback howled with laughter as he turned to eye Hermione's backside as well. “If she gets to heavy, I can hold her; I want to bite that nice round arse of hers!” 

“I have absolutely no interest in being mauled by a rabid wolf, thank you very much,” Hermione mocked. 

“No, Greyback! The Dark Lord wants this one alive and unharmed, and that is what she will be,” Scabior said through tight lips. “You know where to apparate, now go!”

Greyback apparated away only seconds before Scabior and Hermione did. After the squeeze of apparition, they landed outside an enormous manor on the Clogher Nagore Bog in Ireland. The air was thick with fog, so thick, almost, that it could suffocate. The grounds were overgrown and eerie looking. ‘Very fitting.’ Hermione thought as a chill ran down her spine. She noticed that the house was on an island with the bog surrounding it. It chilled her to the core to know that without her wand, she’d have to cross the bog in order to escape. Scabior carried her, walking alongside Greyback, down a broken path to the large mansion. They were stopped about three hundred feet from the manor by wards and a great iron gate. Severus Snape was on the other side of the gate, waiting rather impatiently. 

“We have Hermione Granger for the Dark Lord.” Scabior hissed out to Snape. 

Hermione was shocked to see her erstwhile Potion’s professor at the gates of Voldemort’s hideout. She hadn’t seen him since the Battle of Hogwarts. She’d thought he had died. Obviously, she had been wrong. 

Snape nodded and with a wave of his wand the wards were lifted, and the gate opened. They walked through and the gate which immediately closed once more. Snape waved his wand to raise the wards once more. They continued on the path to the mansion, reaching the door quickly. Greyback knocked on the door. Moments later, the door was answered by Rowle. 

“We have the Granger girl.” Greyback growled.

Rowle nodded and stepped aside to allow them to enter the manor. The two men walked in, Scabior was still carrying Hermione, who’s heart had now begun to pound in terror. She was too close to meeting Lord Voldemort in person, and she wasn’t even remotely ready. She was fucking terrified.

Greyback and Scabior made an immediate left and walked down a corridor that seemed to go on forever. Her view of the floor and lower walls allowed her to see that everything was done in black and grey stone. There were not many identifying features on the walls. They finally made another left and entered the grand dining room. Hermione could feel the heavy oppression of dark magic as they walked in the room; she knew Voldemort was there. In fear and against her better judgment, she began to struggle again.

Suddenly, Scabior deposited her hard on her back at Voldemort’s feet. Hermione froze, rooted in dread. She simply stared up at him. Scabior didn’t release the ropes binding her.

Voldemort sneered at Hermione, “Well, well, well. Not so strong now are you? I knew we’d catch you eventually. Now the question is, what do we do with you?” he taunted her cruelly.

Hermione remained silent. She laid there and trembled at his feet, terrified of what his plans for her would be. As the war continued, Voldemort’s cruelty had grown; he became more and more unhinged in his thinking and actions.

Voldemort waved his wand at her, “Crucio,” he hissed. Hermione burst out in to an agonized scream. The pain coursing through her was worse than anything she had ever felt before.

** _“Bones breaking - muscles on fire - can’t breathe. Oh Gods, I am going to die. Help! Help! Help!” _ **She screamed inwardly. 

She wanted desperately to claw at whatever she could, preferably Voldemort’s flesh, but she was still tied up, forced to stay in one spot and endure his torture. The ropes felt like fire against her skin. The monster released her from the pain of the Cruciatus.

“Imperio,” Voldemort said calmly as he released Hermione’s bonds.

** _“No! No! Please! Not this!”_ ** She screamed inwardly as the Imperius curse took hold of her, ** _“I need to fight this! I can’t let him do this to me. Harry taught us how to fight this in Fifth year. I can do this.”_ **

Voldemort used the curse to force her to stand, then he had her walk to the table and sit in a chair. “Now I could award you to one of my Death Eaters, or,” he mused as he paused momentarily to take his seat opposite her, “I could send you to one of the Muggle-born camps. Hmm, this choice is intriguing. And I haven’t been intrigued in a long time,” he said with an eager grin upon his face.

** _“Oh Gods! Neither sounds appealing. But please not the camp, I might be able to survive if I go to one of the Death Eaters, depending on whom it is.” _ **she thought to herself.

Hermione’s voice broke through weakly as she fought the Imperius still placed upon her, “Please, sir, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to make a request.”

“Is that so?” Voldemort responded to her with a cynical look on his face. Shock was evident on his scaley pale face. She knew his shock was because she was fighting him off. It must have been a long time since anyone had fought him like this.

She nodded but did not speak, she waited as patiently as her panicked mind would allow for him to give her permission to speak.

“You may make your request, though I make no guarantees,” he conceded, intrigue lacing his voice.

Voldemort watched her. If ever there was a time to be strong, it was now. She was worth something to him if she was strong enough to fight his magic.

“If it so pleases you, I would like to go to one of your followers, please sir,” she requested quietly.

  
  


“Hmmm. I may be able to accommodate that request, Ms Granger, but for now, we eat,” he commented.

Hermione’s Imperiused body nodded, and as she did, the food appeared on the table. She was not allowed to eat the food though, as Voldemort placed a cloth napkin in his lap he sneered at her as if to challenge her to fight to eat. She was revolted to be sitting at the table with the vile snake of a man. 

Voldemort motioned for Greyback to come forward, and whispered to him. Greyback turned and left the room. The Dark Lord began eating the mounds of food piled on top of the solid oak table. Dolohov, Rowle, the Lestrange brothers, and Rookwood were all present at the table, Hermione noted in her muddled mind. Moments later, Greyback returned and walked quickly to Voldemort’s side; he whispered to him, and Voldemort nodded his approval.

Voldemort trained his wand on her again. Hermione had no chance to prepare herself when he said, .“Stupify,” effectively knocking the already pliant girl unconscious. 

  
  


***

  
  
  


Voldemort watched as the unconscious girl hit the floor with a sickening thud, a poisonous grin splitting his face, at the exact moment Lucius Malfoy walked through the door of the dining hall.

“Ah, Lucius, thank you for coming on such short notice,” he rasped out.

“Of course, my Lord,” Lucius groveled with a low, humble bow, careful to hide his thoughts about seeing Granger at the Dark Lord’s feet. “What can I do to serve you, my Lord?” he asked, straightening to his normal ramrod posture.

“We have captured the Granger girl, as you can see. I am giving you the choice: send her to a camp or take her as your slave. She will be yours to do with as you see fit,” he explained.

“Thank you, for the consideration, my Lord, I am quite humbled by your generosity,” Lucius said with a slight bow of his head. “I shall take her. I never know when I may need the assistance of a Mudblood to do some dirty work.”

“Lord Voldemort rewards those who serve him,” Voldemort hissed coldly. “I will require to see the Mudblood occasionally. I need to test her; she intrigues me.”

“Of course, my Lord, ” Lucius bowed deeply.

“Mipsy,” Lucius called out for his house elf, as he looked at the girl lying on the floor at their feet. 

“Master calls Mipsy?” The small elf squeaked and bowed so low her nose touched the floor.

“Mipsy, take this girl and chain her to the chair in the dungeon. Ward her, put a body bind on her, do not allow her an inch to squirm. Understood?”

“Yes Master Lucius, Mipsy will chains the girl like you says,” Mipsy squeaked out, not daring to disobey her master.

“Do not fail me elf, or I will put 20 lashes across your back side with a leather strap!” Mipsy squealed, grabbed Hermione and with a snap of her wrinkled hand they vanished.

“Thank you, again, my Lord,” he spoke with another low and humble bow.

He walked out of the dining hall and couldn't help but seethe with anger, 'Now what am I to do with her,' he thought to himself. "I need a fucking drink," he growled under his breath as he stepped into the grate and threw a handful of floo powder. He went whirling away in the blink of an eye and a flurry of green back to Malfoy Manor.


	2. Dinner with the Devil

Lucius stepped out of the fireplace in his study and headed straight for his whiskey cabinet. He couldn’t believe, after all his hard work to keep her safe and alive, Hermione was captured. He had been fascinated with her since the day she stood up to him in Flourish and Blotts the summer before her second year. From that day forward, he vowed to keep her safe, no matter what the consequences. He seethed with anger due to her stupidity in getting caught. Salazar, it seemed no matter what he did, her life wouldn’t be safe in a Voldemort ruled world.

No matter how much he drank he couldn't forget about the girl he currently had tied to a chair in his dungeons. He knew he had to deal with her and that infuriated him more because he had no idea how. He stood abruptly, causing his head to spin momentarily, but he gained his composure quickly and stormed down to the dungeon.

He stepped in front of the unconscious girl, bound to the straight back chair, and slapped her across the face, effectively waking her with a jolt.

“Wake up, you ungrateful swot, ” Lucius commanded through gritted teeth. She screamed in pain when she became aware of her surroundings. He watched as her eyes darted around looking for who had struck her. Upon seeing an irate Lucius in front of her, she shrunk away from him as far as she could anyway, being chained to a chair.

“How dare you! How dare you, you stupid, stupid twit! I have worked my arse off for years to ensure that you were safe, and you landed yourself right on your bum at the feet of the Dark Lord! What were you thinking? What in Merlin's name were you even doing to get caught?” he shouted at her in fury.

“I-I,” she stammered. “Wait, what the bloody hell does it matter to you, and why in the world would you of all people be trying to keep me safe?” she bit back in confusion.

“For Merlin's sake girl! Can't you just be grateful and not spew a million idiotic questions?” He spit back, avoiding her questions altogether.

“Well excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, if you have never given me a reason to believe a damn thing you say,” she replied scathingly.

His eyes mocked her, “I have never lied to you, Miss Granger. As a matter of fact, I have always been exceptionally truthful to you.”

“Oh, so you still think I am a know-it-all, buck-tooth little swot, do you? Well, I think you are an arrogant, manipulative, arsehole with a God complex!” she screamed at him and spit in his face. 

Lucius wiped the spittle off his face and swiftly wrapped his hand around her small throat, “I’m warning you!” he seethed, his face so close to hers that their noses nearly touched. His breath was hot against her face, the smell of fire whiskey wafted up her nose made her scrunch her face in disgust.

“You smell like a fucking pub on a Friday night, ” Hermione choked out even as his hand squeezed tighter around her throat. “Let me go!” she breathed out haltingly, struggling to get a full breath.

“You know that isn’t in my power to do, you silly girl. Just be thankful you are here and not in one of the Muggle-born camps,” he told her with a smirk.”You were captured and brought before the Dark Lord. I can't just let you fucking go free.”

She stopped struggling against his fingers. Lucius could see her mind working overtime “Not like you will treat me any better. You’ve only ever treated me like an animal, because to you that is what I am, a stealer of magic,” she muttered trying to turn her head away from Lucius to stare at the cold stone wall.

“How about I show you how it would be if I had let you go to a camp?” he asked her, sure she wouldn’t want to experience such an atrocity. He could feel fear building in the back of his mind but didn’t understand it, so just dismissed it.

Hermione remained silent, even with angry tears falling. 

“Then I suggest you cooperate and follow my every order Miss Granger, otherwise life shall become exceedingly more miserable for you,” Lucius said spitting right back into her face. 

Lucius saw the moment that she realized that she had no choice. Her face showed defeat, but when she nodded her head in assurance of her cooperation, he saw her determination. He knew she would try to work on a way to escape. 

Lucius unbound Hermione. “You will live here and serve me. You will follow every order given when it is given to you. In return, I shall ensure your safety. Understood?”

Hermione nodded, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I understand.” she responded, her tone dismal.

He waved his wand to release the body bind over her. Then he grabbed her by the arm, his grip tight and pulled her to the stairs and out of the dungeons. He dragged her through what seemed like a maze of corridors and stairs, until he stopped them in front of an ornate cherry wood door. He opened the door and shoved her through it. 

“You will stay here. The door will be locked at all times so don’t even attempt to escape. I suggest a bath, you reek of dragon dung and troll piss,” he instructed her with a disgusted look on his face.

Hermione looked up at him from where she had landed on the floor, “That’s only because I’ve been on the run for years and man handled by your fellow Death Eaters. Maybe they should take baths more often,” she bit out angrily, but nodded her head to show she understood his order. He ignored her taunt and turned, slammed the door behind him and sealed it with a wave of his wand.

Time for another drink, he thought to himself.

  
  
  


*** 

  
  
  


Hermione, finally alone and relatively safe for the time being, stood to her feet and looked in awe at the room he’d thrust her into. It had a magnificent oak four poster bed with emerald green bedding. The wardrobe was inlaid with shiny emeralds within an ornate carving of a serpent. Hermione scoffed at the blatant display of wealth and opulence. 

Hermione opened the door to the ensuite bathroom expecting to see the same sickening display, but was met with an entirely different sight. Though it was gorgeous, the bathroom was dark in comparison to the room itself. Different shades of black and grey from floor to ceiling met her eyes, with a black clawfoot tub sitting in the center of the room. The toilet and sink were simple yet elegant, also shaded in black. The towels that hung in the bathroom were a slate grey.

Hermione walked over to the tub and turned on the tap. She watched as the deep tub was filled with steaming, hot water. She added some bubbles that she found on a shelf across from the tub. Removing her dirt covered clothing, she gingerly stepped into the water, taking care not to burn herself. Once fully submerged, Hermione took the opportunity to close her eyes. She had had a long day and was exhausted. And it had been a fucking long time since she had been able to take a bath.

She could have stayed in that tub forever, but the water had grown cold after only an hour. Hermione drained the water from it and carefully stepped out and wrapped herself with a towel. She was, however, unsure of what she could wear, since all that she owned was drowned in muck.

Curiously, Hermione opened the wardrobe. Inside were many dresses, all in various shades of black and grey. “Who’s dreadful dresses are these, Bellatrix’s?” The thought of the witch who had tortured her in this very home no longer caused her pain- she was numb to that memory. She shrugged her shoulders and took one from the wardrobe. The dress was too long and the bust was to big; she no longer had her wand to shrink it 

“Couldn’t be plainer, or bigger, but what did I expect?” she mumbled to herself. She knew she would be Lucius Malfoy’s servant now. She may as well look the part, right? Since most of the Wizarding world seemed to live in the 1800s, she would fit right in with this dress.

She finished drying her body and dressed as quickly as she could given the plethora of tiny buttons down the back of the dress, which she buttoned from the front and spun around to correct it. “Merlin, I can see all the way to the floor through the dress,” she complained.

Hermione gave up trying to find a way to make the dress fit properly and sat on the foot of the bed, holding the bodice up with her arms, unwilling to bare herself if Malfoy returned. She hadn’t been sitting for long, when the door was flung open, startling her to her feet. Lucius came strutting through the door.

“At least you don’t smell any longer,” he commented, looking down his nose at her.

“Funny, because you still stink of arrogance,” she said, folding her arms across her chest to keep the dress in place and stared at him with frustration etched on her face. “It’s amazing you can sme-” 

“Why you little-” he growled at her as he closed the distance between them in only a few steps. Before Hermione knew it, she was on the floor from the sheer force of the slap she had received, her words cut off mid-sentence.

Tears sprang to her eyes the instant he’d hit her. She cowered away from him, holding her face. She kept silent, despite the urge to taunt him more. 

“Any more back talk from you, and you will regret it. I simply came to escort you to dinner,” he told her angrily as he wrenched her up from the floor, the dress slipped down revealing more than she wished him to see. Her face bloomed in a wild blush. 

“Bloody hell girl!” Lucius waved his wand in front of her shrinking the dress just enough so that it did not fall off of her body, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

Hermione struggled in his arms. She used all her might to punch his back screaming, “Put me down! I’m fucking tired of being hauled around like a sack of potatoes!” 

They had made it only a few feet outside her room, when his irritation got the better of him and slammed her down on her back. The breath was knocked out of her lungs, “You dare to touch me again, mudblood, and I will make you wish you'd never been born.”

He wrenched her up again by the arm, harder than before, as he drug her to the dining room with a vice like grip. She winced in pain but allowed him to pull her behind him, only resisting to show he didn’t control her.

  
  


***

  
  


He deposited her in a chair forcefully the moment they had gotten into the dining room. Then sat opposite her as he glared angrily at her.  _ ‘What gives her the right to say anything to me, much less tell me I am arrogant? _ ’ he thought to himself, still seething.

Their food appeared magically in front of them, and he began to eat. Upon seeing the plethora of food that had appeared on the table in front of her, Hermione’s eyes widened and she quickly started to load her plate with food. Once her plate was full, she began to devour the food, seemingly without taking a breath. Lucius noticed this and gently placed his fork on the table, watching her with a concerned look on his face.    
  
“Miss Granger, do slow down and have some dignity. This is not going to be your last meal.” Lucius said looking down his nose at her.

Hermione swallowed the huge bite she’d had in her mouth with some difficulty, and looked up at him her face blushed slightly. She nodded her head and looked back down at her plate, she waited for the sound of his fork touching his plate before she began to eat again, this time much slower.

Several minutes of awkward silence stretched until she looked over the table at him and asked simply, “What is it you expect from me, Mr. Malfoy?”

He stopped eating to glance up at her, almost cringing at the innocent look upon her face. “I wish for you to be a slave here in the Manor. You will clean alongside the elves, this includes the Abraxan barn and the peacock aviary. You will also be at my beck and call, night or day for anything I decide you should do, no matter the request, no matter how difficult,” he said matter-of-factly. He was very good at keeping his feelings hidden, so she would never see anything from him but disdain.

He had researched as far back in her family as possible. He had to find some hint of magical blood within her ancestry, and yet nothing. This made him determined to find some sign of her having stolen magic from a witch or wizard, yet he found nothing. She was, in all senses of the word, an anomaly and that fascinated him. Her brain fascinated him. He couldn't fathom how a Muggleborn witch could best his son at everything they did. How she could break into Bellatrix's vault with her friends and survive. But she had, and he wanted to know how that brain of hers worked.

“Oh,” she said looking back to her plate of food. “I think I can handle that.” she finished softly. 

“We shall see. Eat.” he commanded his voice barely above a whisper, yet the tone within it turned her veins to ice.

***

She looked dismally down at her plate. Now all she could do was think. Think about the regal man that sat so angrily in front of her, who claimed to have been keeping her safe for so many years, yet he sat there and told her she would be a slave in his home. His calmness and kindness in reminding her to slow her eating gave her whiplash.

He was, in all senses of the word, strange. To her, the idea of hate towards a whole race of people was unthinkable, yet he lived it. And that fascinated her, she needed to figure out how he did it. How could he watch as Voldemort murdered thousands of innocent people? How could he watch as Bellatrix tortured her and still manage to keep his stomach contents down? It made her sick just thinking about it, yet there he sat, and stared at her as if he was entirely innocent. But there was an inexplicable pull toward him in her heart. She, on some level, enjoyed being near him.

  
  
  


Hermione could feel the sting of him trying to enter her mind and quickly hid her thoughts behind the brick wall she'd learned to build. Although, unfortunately for her, he smashed that to billions of pieces in mere seconds. 

Through no choice of her own, he had decided to sift through her thoughts and memories. Finding many personal thoughts she had about him, both good and bad. She could see exactly what he saw in her mind, and he seemed to focus solely on the terrible impression she had of him. She could feel his ire growing the more he searched her mind.

“A monster, huh?” He mused, “I'm sure that's a great way to describe the man who has ensured your safety for years,” he said icily.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut, unable to find the correct words to say.

“Your ability to occlude is abysmal at best. I've seen toddlers who can do better.” He taunted her, “We start your training tomorrow, once you've finished your work around the Manor. I don't care how tired you are.” 

“But, sir?” She began and realized he wouldn’t allow her to challenge him in this when she saw the menacing look he gave her, “Yes, sir. I would like to know one thing, please,” she said politely.

Lucius sighed in irritation, “If I answer your silly question, will you be quiet and eat?” He responded angrily.

With her nod, he waved his hand in his approval for her to speak.

“Why do you need to train me in occlumency at all?” She asked innocently.

“Do you want the Dark Lord to know your every thought? Including, the feelings stirred up by  _ me _ that you want to ignore? You want to hide those feelings from the Dark Lord don’t you, or would you prefer he knew?” He asked her, a sly smirk on his face.

Hermione's jaw dropped at his words as her face blushed crimson. “Uh, absolutely not!” She shouted in shock that he'd found those particular thoughts. She looked down, not wanting to watch him any longer, angry he'd had the nerve to sift through her private thoughts.

“The Dark Lord will penetrate your mind anytime he feels like and will not stop trying until he's satisfied he's seen what he's looking for. And he will not care how hurt, broken, or tired you are,” Lucius explained calmly before he simply continued eating now ready to ignore the little swot. “I for one would think you would rather he not break you when he enters your mind. Thus we train.”

Hermione, still entirely embarrassed by her own thoughts and that he'd forced himself into her mind, kept to her word and continued to eat the meal in front of her.

The two of them ate their dinner in absolute and awkward silence. Neither even risked a glance at the other.

Hermione was aware that Lucius was watching her eat even as he finished his meal. She saw understanding flicker in his eyes but was too absorbed in eating her fill to ask him what he was thinking. Her stomach was beginning to hurt with as much food she was eating, but she had been near starved when she had been captured.

“You don’t have to finish the entire plate, Miss Granger,” he noted softly, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin.

Hermione glanced up, realized how quickly she was eating, and nodded before laying her spoon down. “It is quite a bit more than I have become accustomed to eating,” she acknowledged, wiping her mouth with her napkin and placing it on her plate with a blush.

“I would like to know something, ” he said as he folded his hands under his chin and stared hard at Hermione.

“Yes?” she responded quirking an eyebrow as she eyed him questioningly.

“Why do you keep fighting if everyone who stood against the Dark Lord is dead?”

“Who says everyone is dead? Just because they are believed to all be dead doesn’t mean they are. Besides, if I don’t fight who else will?” She replied honestly. She was glad that he hadn’t seen what she knew about the light side, that Dumbledore was still alive. Her best friend may be dead, but Dumbledore, the mastermind of the light, was still fighting strong.

“Who indeed. Well, it is time for slumber, you have a long day ahead of you. I suggest you take advantage of the soft bed and sleep. Come.”

The walk back to her room seemed to take hours, she was so exhausted. This one day felt as if it would never end. Upon reaching the ornate cherry wood door, Lucius opened it, and she stepped inside. She was not expecting the covers to be turned down or the fire to be blazing away merrily in the large fireplace. She was shocked to find a soft blue nightgown, the color of a robin’s egg, laid out across the bed, or the fuzzy matching robin’s egg blue slippers on the floor. She turned to thank Lucius only to see the door shutting quietly and a pale white ward being erected from the outside.

Hermione sighed, even with his gifts of splendor, she was still a captive. His fire and ice attitude toward her made her question his motives. 


	3. The Beauty of Hell

The next morning presented a new challenge for Hermione. She woke up to a piece of parchment on her bedside table. On it was a handwritten list of all the work that Lucius required her to do in and around the house. 

“Scrub the floors, clean the peacock aviary, clean the Abraxan barn, ALL with no magic! Who does he think I am, Wonder Woman?” She exclaimed as she read the list.

At the end of the list there was a small note from him:

_ Every dress within your wardrobe has been shrunk to fit you exactly. I will be around to collect you at 7 A.M. for breakfast and to show you where everything is located. _   
  


Hermione cast a sideways glance at the ticking clock in the corner of the room and noticed that it was already half six. Her eyes widened, and she jumped out of bed and to rush to the bathroom and cleaned herself up a bit. She did her best to tame her tangled mess of curls without a wand or hair potions, then went and grabbed one of the black dresses out of the wardrobe. He hadn’t been lying in his note, since the dress fit her like a glove. Hermione sat on the foot of the bed with just five minutes to spare. She was anxious, she had been in tough situations before, but never had she been required to do hard physical labor before.

“This day is going to be unbearable wearing a floor length dress,” she muttered to herself.

Only moments into her musing, Lucius slammed open her bedroom door, effectively startling her to her feet.

“Are you ready? I have work to do and don’t have all day to spend coddling you,” he stated without even looking up at her, his tone was firm and rushed. He seemed to her as if he would actually rather spend the day with her than whatever “work” it was he had to do.

“I am,” she said, holding her head high and hiding her anxiety about the work he’d set for her.

He turned and walked out of the room with her following close behind. He led her to the dining room, “I will be in my study. I suggest you eat breakfast. You’ll be busy today, and I don’t want to have you fainting during your occlumency lesson tonight. Don’t even think about running. The grounds are warded to prevent your escape. Understood?” Lucius demanded in a tone a father would take with a rebellious teenager as he pulled out a chair for her to sit in. 

Hermione sat in the offered chair and nodded her head, “Understood.” 

As Lucius left the room, he slammed the door and left her alone. She immediately began eating the meal set before her. Hermione knew that she would be starving by the time she would be able to eat again. 

  
  
  


When Hermione finished, she stood, and walked to the window to look out over the expansive grounds. The sun was barely peeking through the dense fog that surrounded the manor, but she knew the day would drive away the fog soon. The sun would soon be unbearable. 

The sound of peacocks roaming in front of the windows caught her attention. The largest one of the flock seemed to realize she was there and let out a blood curdling sound that caused her to jump back in surprise. A loud chuckle sounded from the doorway, Hermione spun around to see Lucius’ towering frame standing in the doorway, a lighter expression on his face than she had ever seen before. 

“That was Whiskey. He’s the only male in the flock, which makes him slightly dominant.” Lucius informed her as he stepped beside her looking out the window at the flock just outside.

“You want me to clean _ that _ bird!? Are you crazy?” She scoffed in disbelief.

“Not him specifically, just the aviary. _ That _ bird would eat you alive, and I maintain a strict dietary regimen for him. You would give him indigestion. Come.”

“Oh yes, worry about the bird's digestion, not the poor girl who would be eaten,” Hermione muttered as she practically ran to keep up with his long stride.

Every house elf bowed as Lucius entered the kitchen. 

“Mipsy, take Miss Granger to the stables and inform Jarby that she is to clean the stalls. When that is finished, he can send her to my office; it needs cleaning. Only when that is done does she get to eat,” Lucius ordered.

Hermione unconsciously stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth hung open to stare incredulously at the sadistic man. He wasn’t letting her eat until she completed a full day’s work? 

“Do close your mouth, Miss Granger, you look like a fish out of water.” 

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes at him. She placed her hands on her hips and prepared to give him a piece of her mind. What was expected of her was impossible! She wasn’t a fucking slave.

Lucius had quickly closed the gap between them, invading her personal space and giving her absolutely no room to move. She felt the heat rise into her face as his angry form grew nearer.

“This is not a discussion, Miss Granger, or you can spend your days in the dungeon with no food. It’s your choice,” he ground out, his voice low and menacing. 

His breath was hot on her face and smelled of spearmint and honey. Hermione’s knees threatened to buckle; however, she stood firm and closed her eyes in an attempt to hide her true thoughts. She didn’t want him to look into her mind to find the effect his nearness was having on her. It had been too long since she had felt desire. Hermione couldn’t decide if she should feel disgusted by her body’s betrayal or press herself closer into him. She knew he could see the blush on her cheeks, let him think what he would about it. She opened her eyes when he stepped away from her.

“Yes, sir” Hermione responded through gritted teeth and tight lips as she was quickly whisked away by Mipsy, who seemed to want to avoid any further disturbance in her master’s mood. Neither witch or wizard noticed the frustrated look the tiny elf was giving Lucius.

They walked down a long path, and soon arrived at the stables. Hermione looked at the large building in awe, then the thought of cleaning it by hand hit her and a look of disgust crossed her face. 

“Jarby!” Mipsy called to the other elf as they walked into the barn.

Jarby appeared in front of them with a loud crack, startling Hermione. “You needs Jarby?” the larger elf responded to Mipsy.

“Master says you be watching her cleans and bring her back when she be’s done and no magic!” Mipsy stated, she turned and with a snap of her fingers and vanished.

Jarby looked at Hermione with a scowl. He was an old elf, slightly hunched. His skin was grey and wrinkled with age and sun, and he had an excessive amount of white ear hair that almost looked like large cotton balls. He limped to the first stall and grabbed a pitch fork to hand to Hermione. The pitchfork was bigger than Jarby, but he managed to drag the tool to Hermione.

“Here’s,” he said crankily and shoved the pitchfork into her hand, “Starts at the end, put the manure in the buckets.”

Hermione quickly grabbed the pitchfork and stared at it. She had read about them in books of course, but she had never actually held one. She understood the concept of the dangerous looking tool but executing the manoeuvre and reading about it were two entirely different things.

Hermione dragged the pitchfork down the middle of the barn to the last stall. Hermione looked at the large piles of horse excrement and gagged; the smell was revolting. Even with the early morning dew the piles were steaming. She placed the pitchfork carefully under the first pile and pulled up only to have the stinking mess land on the back of her head.  
  
"Ah, Fuck!" She yelled. The stinking mess was now rolling down the back of her dress.   
  
Jarby shook his head as he watched her get covered in horse shite.

"You’s has to turn with it like a shovel," He explained.

Hermione growled in frustration as she turned back to the massive piles of manure. She tried again a second time and was more successful with about half of it landing in the bucket. Hermione rolled her eyes, yet she continued. With each pile, she became more and more successful. 

After more than an hour, Hermione thought she had finally managed to clear all the manure in one stall. Her hands certainly felt bruised and blistered. She took a step backward and tripped over one pile of horse shite, falling into piles she had missed. She was now fully covered from head to toe in the stuff.

Jarby grumbled as he led Hermione back up the path and into the kitchen. Mipsy looked livid that Jarby had brought her inside her pristine kitchen.

“OUT!” The tiny elf yelled as she ushered Hermione back out of the kitchen and to a water pump and snapped her fingers. Before Hermione could process what was happening, the pump was violently spraying her down with water, rinsing away the majority of the horse manure.

Hermione instinctively threw her hands up to cover her face against the assault, “STOP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” Hermione cried out as she was abruptly spun around, and her back was sprayed with a stream of water that nearly knocked her off her feet.

When she was satisfied Hermione was clean enough, Mipsy snapped her fingers once more and the pump turned off. With another snap of Mipsy's fingers, Hermione was completely dry, “Come, you haves a lot of works to do,” the small elf ordered heading back toward the kitchen.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but followed the elf anyway. She couldn’t believe she had once thought elves to be helpless slaves. Mipsy was terrible. They entered the Manor through the enormous kitchen. The small elf directed Hermione into the long corridor that led to the front entryway. “You’s be cleaning the Master's office as Master Lucius said,” Mipsy demanded as she suddenly thrust as wooden bucket with soap, water, and a scrub brush inside it, “then Master has said for yous to cleans the aviary.”

Hermione’s face burned with frustration. She swiftly turned and headed toward Lucius' office to scrub her anger away, as she tried to ignore the hunger pangs that were beginning in her belly.

She stepped into the masculine office and gasped. She was in awe of how elegant yet simple it was. Hermione placed her bucket on the floor, carefully, and walked over to the mahogany desk. She pulled a dry rag from the pocket of her dress and began wiping it down. Once she finished with the desk she began carefully dusting each book on his shelves behind his desk. The simple work reminded her of helping her mum when she was a child, dusting books and laughing at the stories her mum told her. Tears filled her eyes with the memories. Sometimes she really missed her parents.

"Mipsy?" Hermione called softly for the grumpy little elf as she finished cleaning the books and shelves.

“Can you Mudbloods do nothings without helps?” the small elf insulted as she entered the room with a pop.

Hermione’s fists balled up in anger at the use of such a horrid word by even his servant, “I need a broom, you didn’t give me a broom for the floor,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

The tiny elf popped away grumbling her discontent and returned moments later with a broom for Hermione and left as quickly and angrily as she had entered.

Hermione stood there confused as to how even a servant in the Malfoy home could hate someone like her.

“Granger!” His voice jolted her from her thoughts as she turned her head, fear entering her as she saw him. His face was contorted with anger. With only a few strides, he had cleared the space of the enormous office. He gripped her arms, pinning them tightly to her sides. “I thought I told you I wanted the barn entirely clean!” he fumed. 

Hermione stared at him in shock, “I did clean it,” she retorted.

“The job wasn’t finished!” he growled, his breath hot on her face. He had forced her against the wall. She struggled to break his grip on her.

Hermione cried out in surprise when he changed his grip to drag her through the office and down the same hallway they had traversed coming from the dungeons the day before. “You will learn your place!” he growled.

“Please, sir! I’m sorry!” Hermione pleaded with him. He didn’t respond. She ran behind him, tripping over the gown she wore as he yanked her abruptly around the corner.

Upon reaching the dungeons, he threw her in a cell, “You will stay here for the next two days with no food! I had better not hear a sound from you, or things will get much worse! Understood!” He roared as he slammed the door to her new prison shut.

Hermione was shocked by the anger and pain she saw in Lucius’ eyes, like he was warring with himself. She did not understand. He was angry with her, why would he look like he regretted his outburst? 

“I understand, sir,” she replied. She would not be intimidated by this tyrant of a man, even if he was feeling regret, probably for the first time in his life. 

Lucius turned and left Hermione in the dungeon, slamming the door loudly behind him. She was alone with her thoughts, unafraid of the next two days. This was not the first time she had gone without food. 

  
  


***

It had been two days since he’d seen her, and he had felt guilty the whole time. Lucius sat, with his feet up, reading a financial report by the fire in the library; he wasn’t really comprehending what he was reading though. He found himself staring off into the fire as he felt the pain of extreme hunger even when he’d eaten only an hour prior. No matter what he did, he couldn’t keep his mind on his work.

Lucius growled and threw the report on the ground. He had wanted to release her as soon as he had locked the dungeon gate, but he did not want her to see him as weak. But this time, he could not ignore the pull to her. It hurt. 

Lucius stood from his chair so quickly he knocked it to the floor with a thud. He paced in front of the fire; he wanted to hate her. Merlin, how he tried. But there was something about her being within the walls of his home. Her nearness drew him in. He could feel the fear and pain that she felt each time he hurt her, and it did nothing but kill him inside. He wanted to feel her within his arms, to take away all the hurt and sadness that he and the rest of this awful world had caused.

He turned and walked out of the library determined to make things right. Somehow.


	4. Muddy Revelations

Hermione looked up from staring at her feet, when she heard footsteps outside the door, then she heard the door unlock and abruptly swing open, letting a brilliant and blinding light flood into the dungeon. Hermione shielded her eyes with her arm. She felt a gentle hand touch her arm; she lifted her head, and blinked her eyes to adjust them to the light. Lucius was looking at her like he’d never looked at her before. His eyes never left her own as he bent down and scooped her up into his arms.

Hermione weakly allowed him to carry her, placed her head on his chest, and breathed in his heady scent. Neither spoke the whole way to her room. She felt so confused. During her time in the dungeon, she had felt stirrings of guilt and regret that were not her own. Normally, she would be able to handle the two days with no food or light, but this time, the weight of guilt almost made the hunger unbearable. And having already been near starving even after eating two meals with Lucius, these last two days caused her to be even more weak. She felt her magic calling out for help, calling out for Lucius Malfoy, it seemed.

He opened her door for her. “I’ll get you some food. Clean up,” he commanded firmly.

Hermione looked at him in confusion, but nodded her head, unable to muster the strength to argue. She stood and watched as he closed the door. The guilt in the pit of her stomach had grown with his touch. It was then she realized: there was a bond of some sort between them. She didn’t know how to explain it, or how it happened, but it was there all the same. The desire to study the bond grew the more she thought about the implications of such a connection being in place. What kind was it? Where did it come from? Why her and Lucius?

She went to the bathroom and took off the disgusting dress she had been wearing for nearly three days. Her hair was in desperate need of a wash, so she started the bath and stepped into the luxurious tub. Her mind was still spinning with questions and hypotheses, but she held them back as she relaxed into the bath.

Once her ablutions were taken care of, she went to her bedroom to get a dress from the wardrobe. She wasn’t sure if she would be expected to work the rest of the day since it was only a little after lunch. She noticed a tray full of food under a warming charm, grabbed a warm roll and took a bite. It was glorious to taste, light and fluffy, buttery even with no butter. Hermione moaned in ecstasy at the taste of the food in her mouth. 

The door opened, after a short knock. She shrieked before she could stop Lucius from entering. She had not put on a dress before choosing to eating the roll.

“Sir, I am not dressed yet!” she yelled, covering herself with her hands. 

“My apologies. Dress, I’ll wait outside.” 

  
  


***

Lucius stood in the corridor, his hands clasped behind his back as he conversed with one of the paintings on the wall just across from her room, when his attention was drawn from his conversation by the sound of her door opening slowly. The sliver of a malnourished but toned body that he saw before realizing his blunder would follow him to sleep tonight. He turned to see her standing in her doorway, a light blush across her face.

Lucius smiled softly, "I apologize for barging in. I should have waited for your approval to enter. Did you enjoy your meal?” 

“I had only just begun eating a roll. That is why I was still undressed. I saw the roll and decided I couldn’t wait for clothes before eating. It was foolish of me. It won’t happen again.” She looked down in submission as she spoke. Lucius could feel the fear radiating off of her.

“I overreacted. You have nothing to fear Ms. Granger. Come, I will have Mipsy bring the food to the dinner table, and we can discuss your next set of chores while you dine.”

***

  
  


Hours later, Hermione had finally finished scrubbing the floors. It had taken hours but was a much easier chore to perform while thinking about the complete one-eighty that Lucius had performed in the early afternoon. He had been attentive and apologetic. It confused her, but his demeanor also caused the fascination she felt for him to flair yet again. Scrubbing already clean floors also gave her time to think through the bond that she felt with Lucius. If she paid attention, she could feel his agitation at something, then his frustration.

She stood to stretch when Lucius came barging through the door, mud covered his right side from his boots to his shoulder. She knew he had gone on a ride through the forest, having told her before setting her to work.

“Bloody fucking horse threw me into the mud! Afraid of a damned rabbit!” He grumbled under his breath in an irate tone.

Hermione watched in shock as he tracked mud from the door to the stairs and up. From the top of the stairs and down the corridor a ways she heard his muffled voice. “Clean it, Mudblood.” 

Her jaw almost hit the floor at the horrible term he used. It felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. He was so hot and cold with her. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She took a deep, steadying breath and walked back to the door and started cleaning the floors all over again. This time, however, she made her way up the stairs as she followed Lucius’ muddy trail. The trail had led right to a door she could only assume to be his chambers. 

Hermione knocked timidly but did not receive an answer. She was sure he’d be angry if the mud was still on his bedroom floor when he got out of the shower, so she decided to quietly enter the room, clean up the mess, and exit the room before he finished. 

Hermione shakily reached for the handle and turned it. Opening the door just enough for her to push the bucket ahead of her, then silently closed it once more. Hermione froze when she realized she didn’t hear any water running. Before she could dart back out of the room, the ensuite door was flung open, slamming into the wall behind it with the force Lucius had used.

Hermione stared at the man who stood naked and seething in front of her, her eyes as wide as a mooncalf during mating season. Her face burned with the heat of a passionate blush as she stared at him in his magnificent glory. And was he glorious, Hermione thought. Strong, lean legs, perfect cock with just a smattering of blond hair around it, and surprising enough for a man in his early fifties, a toned chest, more than likely from the riding he did regularly. The bond that thrummed between them hummed in anticipation. She felt his desire and anger before he acted on it.

Lucius took several angry strides in her direction, thus breaking her musings and brought her attention back to how angry he was. Hermione tried to step back, away from him, but before she could react he had pushed her against the door, pressing his body to hers. His left hand grabbed a handful of her hair, and his other hand gripped her throat lightly, not quite enough to choke her, but enough to startle her. He pushed his advantage and applied a deeper pressure to her throat as he leaned in to challenge her. 

“Ms. Granger, this is my room. You will not enter unless invited.” She struggled beneath his body as he continued to tighten around her throat. Fear welled up in her. He pulled back just enough to crash his lips onto hers.

Hermione inhaled sharply at the suddenness of Lucius’ actions. She wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle right there, to let him take her, to pretend the past three days were a dream; but they weren't, and she was terrified to let him in on how she truly felt. The bond pulled at her, she could feel it overwhelming the two of them. Hermione mustered up all the courage and strength she could find and pushed him away, effectively breaking the bruising kiss.

Lucius smirked, clearly satisfied he'd made his point loud and clear, he stepped back a few steps allowing her the room to make a hasty escape. Hermione rushed to her room, tears in her eyes. She slammed the door behind her with force that was beyond her tiny frame. Hermione threw herself on the bed distraught. He had managed to incite a lustful desire within her body that burned within her like the hottest fiendfyre.

Her body had reacted to him in a way she’d not been expecting, and she hated them both for it. She didn’t want to admit that she wanted him. This hadn’t been the first time she had had a reaction like this to him. The night in the Department of Mysteries when he had spoken so calmly, so regally, it had set her skin alight with electricity. She wanted nothing more than to touch his soft skin and run her fingers through his luscious, blonde hair, but she knew it was wrong; and he would never approve. Yet, here he was years later, kissing her. 

Was he aware of the bond? Could he feel it as well? It seemed almost like he was using the bond to his advantage, only letting up on his grip when he felt her fear. Did he mean to do that? She needed answers to these questions in order to parse out his motives. She was questioning so much about Lucius Malfoy, and it didn’t sit right with her. He was evil, wasn’t he? Hermione laid on her bed, questioning everything she thought she knew to be true about Lucius for quite some time, so long in fact, she had fallen asleep.

  
  


***

  
  


Lucius looked for her for nearly twenty minutes after his bath and was unable to find Hermione for dinner. He realized she must’ve never come out of her room. He grumbled under his breath as he set off to retrieve her, “I really wasn’t that horrible. I kissed her, nothing too bad, and she wanted it just as much as I did-- I could feel her desire pulsing through me. There’s no reason to sulk all day when there is still work to do.”

When he got to her room, he barged in to find a sleeping Hermione, who still had the puffy eyes of someone who’d been crying. He scoffed at her childish reaction to what he’d done. He stepped to the side of the bed and wrenched her up by the arm, “Time to wake up, there’s still work to do!” he growled as he placed her upright on her feet.

“What the fuck, Malfoy!” Hermione instinctively screamed as she was abruptly awoken from her unrestful sleep. 

He began to drag her out the door and toward the foyer, “Let go! I can walk, you know!” she shouted. She tried desperately to wrench her arm from his vice like grip, but he held her tighter.

Like a flash of lightning, he spun around and pinned her against the wall, one hand gripping each upper arm tightly. His face was too close to hers, his breath hot on her face as he spoke chillingly quiet, “If you had been following your orders instead of sulking in your room, I wouldn’t feel the need to drag you through the corridor.” His grip on her arms lightened a bit as he let go with his left hand and slid his right hand lightly down her arm to her wrist and swiftly began dragging her once more. 

The bond made him aware of the effect of every touch, and Hermione’s skin caught fire as his hand moved down her arm. He could feel her ire as well as her want for him, it was an addicting emotion.

  
  


***

Being pulled down the corridor forcefully by Lucius Malfoy was not her favorite way of moving about the Manor. If anything, it made her angrier at him when he manhandled her. Desire for him was there, but anger outweighed that embarrassing emotion. 

Hermione realized Lucius was speaking to her as they moved through the Manor. 

  
“Since the mud is still in the foyer, that needs to be cleaned up. You have permission to enter my room to clean the floors. I don’t want you to get any ideas and snoop through my things. You’ll clean the floor and the bathroom and that is it. Do you understand?” He spoke through gritted teeth, finally letting go of her wrist when they arrived at the door to his bedroom. The scrub brush and water bucket were still waiting outside for her to begin work. 

This would take hours to finish Hermione realized. She glanced up at Lucius’ face to see if there was any remorse for his having made such a huge mess. He looked bored. 

After a moment, she spoke through gritted teeth, “Yes, sir. I won’t go through your things. What should I do once this chore is complete?” 

“You may eat dinner, and I will test your occlumency. Practice clearing your mind, I know that will be rather difficult feat for your brain,” he spoke almost in a teasing tone. She looked up sharply and saw a familiar smirk graced his features. 

“Yes sir,” she said simply.

Lucius walked toward his office, and she picked up her bucket and scrub brush and opened the door to his bedroom. She could smell his soap from his shower. It permeated the room and while she knew it would not help, she gave herself over to the scent as the traitorous feeling of desire pulsed through her. 

After a moment of fantasizing about the frustrating man she served, she set to work scrubbing the floor and clearing her mind. Lucius was correct, it was a lot more difficult to shut down her mind than it would be for a normal person.


	5. Answers

Lucius left Hermione to clean the floors of his room, and rather than heading to his office, he went to the library to research bonds. The bond between him and his charge was becoming more and more distracting by the minute. Bonds such as the one he felt between the two of them were uncommon. It took everything in him to not throw the door to his room open, lay her out on the bed, and have his way with the beautiful woman. That was how he knew this was not a normal bond- the only one he could come up with was the soul bond. 

The well of desire he felt through the bond finally gave way to anger and embarrassment. A smile grew on his lips, because an angry Hermione Granger was fun to toy with. It would make their occlumency lesson later much more enjoyable if she was angry.

After a few hours of researching soul bonds and any other type of bonds, he had more questions than answers still. It was just such an unknown branch of magic. He decided to go in search of his charge; he could feel her hunger pangs which was more of a distraction than the desire he felt earlier. Lucius decided then and there if he could prevent her from going hungry, he would.

Walking through the Manor, he found her in the foyer just finishing the floors. A small surge of guilt welled in him, but he pushed that down quickly, no need for Hermione to feel his guilt. He was a master at occlumency; he would have to be better at shielding her from his feelings. At his approach, she looked up from the floor.

“Are you finished?” He asked gently. 

“Yes sir,” she answered quietly, standing to her feet; he noticed she didn’t look him in the face. He wondered what he had allowed to seep through the bond earlier.

He nodded and motioned for her to follow him. They walked to the dining room quietly. She walked to the table and stood next to her chair waiting for him to give her permission to sit.

“Sit.” Lucius said plainly as he sat. He cleared his throat before he began speaking again. “I did some research today. It may help explain the pull we have towards each other. I’m sure you have felt it as well.” 

She nodded, relief was visible in her eyes, “Yes, I’ve been wondering about it but obviously have not had time to research it myself.” Her voice was laced with irony and accusation. “What did you discover?” 

  
  
  
  


“Before I explain that, I should probably explain my motives for agreeing to take you in. It will also shed light on the bond, I think.” Lucius sighed and began to eat the meal before him while speaking between bites. He motioned for her to begin eating as well. 

“When you arrived here I was so desperately angry at you for getting caught, especially after all the efforts that I’d made to keep you safe and out of the Dark Lord’s hands,” he paused in his words. Now was the time to tell her how he kept her safe, “Since you were a child, Hermione, I felt something- deep inside me- that kept me close to you, I desperately needed to help you. I couldn’t explain it, honestly, I still can’t.”

Hermione interrupted him gently, “Thank you. I knew there was someone helping me stay ahead of the Snatchers, I just wasn’t sure who it was. You saved my life more times than I can count.”

He nodded his head in acceptance of her thanks and took a sip of the soup in front of him before continuing, “In the Department of Mysteries, when we were chasing you and your friends, I didn’t want any harm to come to you. I was so distressed thinking you would be killed, and I was so angry you were even there, that I distracted the rest of the Death Eaters by sending them down an aisle that none of you had gone down to give you a chance to get out.”

A look of shock on her face stopped him from speaking for a moment. 

“After Narcissa was killed by her sister, I felt the pull to you become greater, so strong in fact, I was a bloody mess. Any time I heard my group of Snatchers make mention of being on your trail I would throw them off and send them running in the opposite direction. I made sure that you had food at least a few times a week, I couldn’t do it more often, or it would have become too obvious to others around me.” He stopped momentarily taking a steadying breath and watched her take in the information he had just dropped into her lap. 

“So when you were given to me by the Dark Lord, I decided I was going to make your life a living hell, at least for a short while. I wanted you to understand just how much was wasted without you out there fighting. But, it seems I may have taken that too far; I never meant for you to fear me in any way,” Lucius explained patiently.

Hermione looked at him stunned, speechless. Her face burned with a furious blush, “Why? Why wouldn’t you just explain it to me?” She asked looking at him confused.

“I guess it was my way of avoiding the truth,” he admitted to himself more than her. Desert had been served, a pudding with fruit on the side. He watched as she took a strawberry and dipped it in the pudding before placing it into her mouth. The motion was alluring, and he had to tamp down on the desire that welled up in him. 

“Truth?” She questioned him further once her mouth was clear of strawberry.

He inhaled sharply; he opened mouth to speak, then growled in frustration when the words refused to appear on his tongue. He stood abruptly, which knocked his chair to the floor. Anger welled up in him, anger and frustration at the situation they found themselves in. Lucius paced the room.

“I can’t explain it. Why do I need you near me so bloody much!?” Lucius roared, slamming his fists into the ancient stone wall beside the fireplace. “I can't stop this insane need to protect you, this burning need to hold you; believe me I have tried for years to hate you.” He turned to her almost hoping she had the answers he searched for.

“I don't hate you, Lucius,” Hermione whispered.

“You should, I’m a right bastard.”

“Arrogant yes, sometimes too bloody smart for your own good, but you are not a bastard, Lucius.” 

Lucius walked to the table again and picked up his wine glass. He took a sip of wine before throwing it into the fire, the flames grew with the burst of alcohol. 

Hermione stood up and rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Lucius! Please calm down!” She said flustered. “I can’t hate you. The bond we feel, we need to research it. I understand your motivations much better now. Thank you for explaining it to me. And for keeping me safe for so long. The question is, where do we go from here?”

He dropped his hands and turned around in her arms. Lucius looked down at the small, beautiful young witch who looked up at him. He heard his name on her lips, and it set his skin ablaze with electricity.

Lucius reached his hands forward and cupped face, “I'm sorry,” he whispered as his face drew closer to hers. He kept his touch light and non threatening, he needed her to know that it was her choice to stay or go. He stopped momentarily and locked eyes with her before placing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. Her breathing slowed down, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I am going to kiss you,” he whispered, ghosting his lips gently over hers.

The kiss only lasted a moment, but it was full of promise. He pulled away from her and spoke quietly, “We still need to train you in occlumency. Are you ready?” 

“Yes, Lucius,” she pulled away just a few feet. He felt her closing off her mind through the bond and smiled at her willingness to work on this. 

“Let’s begin.” Lucius gave her no time to think, let alone block her thoughts from him.

Hermione felt his intrusion into her mind like a white hot poker into her past. Tears sprung to her eyes as the both of them witnessed her running through the woods as spells flew by, dangerously close. With no warning she tripped over a tree root. Unable to get up, she simply knew she was caught. But then a sound caused the wizards chasing her to move in the opposite direction. Shock filled her as she quickly disapparated. The scene quickly changed to show last winter when she hadn’t eaten in over a week and was starving, the smell of warm bread brought her out of her tent. She found a bundle wrapped neatly next to a tree near her tent. Waving her wand to check for curses or jinxes, she grabbed the package and ran to her tent. The warm bread she found inside was quickly stuffed in her mouth to satiate her hunger. 

Hermione tried to push him out of her mind, but he was like a hammer to her psyche. Tears rolled down her face as she realized he was looking for one particular instance. She pushed it in front of him, to get him out of her mind. The scene was of her in an alley, hidden only by a few quickly spoken spells. Snatchers were walking past, one stopped and sniffed a few feet from her. Then a noise down the street led the snatchers away from her. She let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“That was you wasn’t it? You led them away from me,” Hermione questioned him, once he had pulled out of her mind. Her head ached and the tears were still falling from her eyes, but she didn’t care. She wanted answers.

Lucius looked at her with pain in his eyes. “You would have been caught. It was me. I could feel the general vicinity of where you were. That was how I knew where to leave the food. That group of Snatchers were imbeciles at best. They wouldn’t have been able to catch you. It was easy to lead them astray. But they were too close to you.”

  
Hermione launched herself at him and kissed him deeply. Pulling back she gazed into his eyes, “Thank you. I would have died without you. I just knew someone was helping me. You risked your life for so long. Thank you.” 

“For you, anything,” Lucius pulled her back in for a deeper kiss. 


	6. Falling

Hermione woke to a gentle knocking on the door to her room. “Coming,” she called groggily as she threw off the covers and stepped down onto the cold floor. She took her robe from the foot stool and wrapped it around herself and walked swiftly to the door. She opened it to see Lucius standing there regal as ever. “Lucius? To what do I owe the pleasure, so early in the morning?” She asked with a small, sleepy smile.

“I wish to show you the one room in my home I know you will love,” he said as he smiled and glanced down at her attire, “Once you are dressed, of course.”

Hermione blushed deeply remembering she was still in her night clothes. “Right, I’ll only be a moment,” Hermione said softly.

Lucius grinned as he bowed and stepped back into the corridor to allow her to shut her door.

Hermione rushed to her wardrobe and wished she had something nicer than the ugly black dresses that were in there to wear, and hanging front and center was a floor length, dark blue, sleeveless dress with a low cut front and a flowing skirt. There were even a pair of heels to match. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. Her smile never faded as she got dressed and did her hair with the brush and potions that were also provided by Lucius. How he got them into her room without her waking was a mystery, especially since the house-elves did not enter her room.

When she felt she was ready, she stepped out into the corridor where she found a patiently waiting Lucius who beamed at her when he laid eyes on her. “You look magnificent. I knew that dress would look perfect on you.”

Hermione blushed. “Thank you, Lucius. The dress is amazing. When did you place it in my room?” she marveled with appreciation. The bond hummed with happiness, and she smiled brighter knowing that Lucius wasn’t completely occluding his feelings from her.

Lucius held his arm out for her to take, “I placed them there early this morning while you slept. You sleep very deeply, is that normal for you?”

She linked her arm gently with his and let him lead her in whatever direction he wished. “I don’t normally sleep deeply. I’m too on edge, but I must have felt safe last night for you to place the items in my room.” She thought about the goodnight kiss they had shared after he had led her to her room.

A few minutes of walking and marveling at the parts of the manor she’d yet to see, they came to a large chestnut door, with an ornate carving of a moving dragon on it. Hermione stepped closer to the door and gazed at it in wonder when the door opened and revealed an even more beautiful sight. Her jaw dropped as she stepped through the door and into a three story library with shelves lining almost every wall. There was a fireplace on the far wall with two dark, leather wingback chairs on a plush rug in front of it. If she didn’t know better, the library from  _ Beauty and the Beast _ could have been modeled after this room. It was perfection.

“This is amazing, Lucius!” she exclaimed, her eyes full of excitement. “May I?” she asked. She wanted nothing more than to investigate each shelf and know every tome in them.

“Of course. I have some work to do today, so you may spend as much time here as you wish. Maybe begin some of the research on soul bonds or spend time reading for pleasure,” he explained as he moved closer to her. The word pleasure made her shiver with desire. “And later, I have a surprise for you.” 

She smiled at him as he stepped even closer to her, his hand resting on her cheek. “Go, enjoy, I’ll join you later,” he spoke softly as he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Her breath hitched in her throat. 

As he pulled away from the kiss, he lingered a moment. She noticed his eyes had darkened just a bit, showing his growing lust, before he slowly turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of the enormous library wanting him more than ever. She shook herself from her thoughts and began looking through the books on the shelves.

***

Lucius sat at his desk and began to work, but was distracted by the desire to be in the same room as Hermione. He snapped his fingers and instantly the papers and scrolls were neatly together, wandless magic came easily to him. He picked them up as well as his good quill and departed his office for the library.

When he walked in, he’d noticed Hermione had chosen a book to read and was laying on the plush rug in front of the roaring fire. He stared at her momentarily, before shaking himself out of his reverie and moved to the table closest to her. He set himself to work, but as he worked, he glanced up at her finding himself distracted from his work more and more with each passing moment. After nearly an hour of this suffering, he couldn’t take it anymore and set his quill down and moved the scrolls and papers aside and just watched the magnificent witch before him. The bond was pulling him to her; he could feel it as clearly as he knew his own thoughts, but he wasn’t resisting the bond.

He stood and walked to her, sat beside her, looked at the cover of the book, and saw that it was  _ The Life and Adventures of Fanny Hill.  _

“You just so happened to find one of Narcissa’s favorite novels, but she never would tell me what it was about. Would you mind reading it to me?” He requested as he rested close to her. 

Hermione blushed scarlet, and he could feel her embarrassment and something else through the bond. She nodded and began to read, 

"Whilst they were in the heat of the action, guided by nature only, I stole my hand up my petticoats, and with fingers on fire, seized and yet more inflamed that center of all my senses: my heart palpitated, as if it would force its way through my bosom: I breathed with pain; I twisted my thighs, squeezed and compressed the lips of that virgin slit, and following mechanically the example of Phoebe's manual operation on it, as far as I could find admission, brought on at last the critical ecstasy, the melting flow, into which nature, spent with excess of pleasure, dissolves and dies away." 

Her voice was mesmerizing to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her lips as she read to him. The images conjured by her voice caused him to harden. The thought of touching Hermione the way she was reading was maddening. He wanted her, but he would need to go slowly. He reached toward her, and she stopped reading when he placed his hand to gently cup her face, turning her to look at him rather than the book.

  
  


He leaned in and kissed her sweetly, ever so gently. He allowed his hands to roam her body as he drew her closer to him. He rolled her on top of him, his hands gripped her hair, stopping the kisses that had built in heat. He pulled her head back away from his own and spoke, "We must work on your occlumency." His face was calm but serious.

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath to prepare herself for his intrusion into her mind. She shifted off of him, much to his chagrin and sat on the floor next to him. 

Lucius looked deep into Hermione's eyes before he entered her mind, sifting through her memories as she tried desperately to push him away from them. 

An image formed before him of a very young Hermione, perhaps two years old, as she walked into a Muggle library for the very first time holding her mother's hand. The look of childlike awe and wonder on her face was spectacular. He could remember Draco having similar expressions when riding a broom. 

He reluctantly moved from this image to press further into her mind and found her first time in the Hogwarts library. She was so excited, she could hardly contain herself. Her feelings were visceral. He watched as she bounced on the balls of her feet and looked around the library, touching spines of books lovingly with her fingertips. He smiled despite himself. But he could tell she wasn’t trying to hinder him seeing this memory, rather, thrust it toward him for him to see. 

The image changed once more this time she was in Flourish and Blotts with Harry Potter and the Weasleys, and Draco was taunting them. Lucius watched as he entered the scene.

Lucius realized that this would have been Draco’s second year. The year that he hid Riddle’s diary in the Weasley girl’s cauldron. 

He watched as he introduced himself to Harry Potter. He remembered being surprised at the gall of the young boy and listened as young Mr. Potter said the Dark Lord’s name. He inwardly cringed as he heard it. 

He challenged the boy, but Hermione cut off any retort Potter had. 

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,” Hermione interjected with confidence. 

Lucius watched as he turned to Hermione in the memory. Hermione’s memory of him looked at her with a certain amount of hidden disgust and disdain. 

He cringed yet again at the look he gave her in her memory and remembered feeling disgust for being in the same room as a Muggle. Lucius felt a certain amount of disgust at his horrible behavior to the girl he was now attracted too. He recognized now that there had been a certain pull toward her, even then.

He backed out of the memory with a sigh. Hermione pulled away from him as he sat back and rubbed his eyes. As good as he was at legilimency, it still exhausted him. He had spent enough time in her mind to have a migraine later.

“You didn’t even try to stop me, why?” Lucius challenged Hermione, frustrated that he had been able to view three separate memories. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to stop the Dark Lord from seeing anything.

“How the fuck do you want me to stop you? You haven’t explained how to do that. This was our second lesson, and I’ve learned nothing, but you have learned so much about me. Explain how I am to block you.” She threw her hands up in frustration at the man before her. Her eyes were alight with a fire, and he remembered the fire from her memory. She hadn’t lost it, but did she trust him?

“Were you even trying? You practically threw the second memory at me. Could you build a fake memory? You have a vivid imagination. Build a memory. Make it believable. Pay attention to details, details make the memory believable. Until then, throw me out of your mind. Don’t let me in. And don’t throw memories at me,” he breathed deeply. A migraine was already starting.

Hermione wilted under his gaze and touched his hand gently, “Thank you for training me in occlumency, and I know without you, I would be dead. I will try to build memories. Until then, I will try to throw you out. Although I don’t think throwing Voldemort out of my mind will end well for me.” 

He looked at his hand under hers and picked her hand up to look at it. He couldn’t help but state, “Your hands are beautiful Hermione.” He watched as a beautiful blush bloomed on her face. 

She cleared her voice quietly before she said, “Thank you.” 

“We need to get ready for dinner. Why don’t you go to your room and clean up. I will meet you in an hour to walk you to dinner.” He let go of her hand to stand. He held his hand out kindly to assist her in rising. He couldn’t resist her lips once she was in front of him. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. He felt her gasp against his mouth. 

Lucius smirked as he pulled away, “Go, I will see you shortly.” 


End file.
